Arknights, but the Family Has Fallen into Decline Again and Again and Again - Part 21

In other words, on a combat platform as small and as distant as a low-altitude aircraft... relying on complex, large-scale Originium equipment to lower the requirements for casters was not very realistic. And powerful casters capable of accurately projecting Arts over several thousand meters were unlikely to belong to the same combat unit as something so impractical.

War was conservative, yet radical.

It would unhesitatingly choose anything proven in actual combat, while scorning anything that had not been tested.

Armed aircraft were precisely the kind of weapon that had never been tested by Terra's brief history of modern warfare.

Because on Terra's Originium-based tech tree, armed low-altitude aircraft came far, far later than their half-brothers from another world—the armed helicopters on Earth's tech tree.

Not everyone aboard the Bad Boy had been deployed.

"Jessica, the firepower on the left is too thin. Frostleaf, the liquid nitrogen in the tanks is unstable. Cool it down, now!"

Oute stared at the terminal, micromanaging the battle on the ground as he casually gave orders.

"U-Understood!"

"Understood."

Meteorite and Jessica pulled their triggers together. Nitrogen gas escaping its liquefied state rapidly expanded, driving the rounds through the narrow barrels. The aircraft-mounted machine guns temporarily installed on both sides of the Bad Boy emitted a series of dull reports.

In the end, this bloody weapon, which placed no demands whatsoever on its user's Originium Arts, returned to this world through Oute's hands.

Even if it was hideous now, grotesquely malformed, and even required Originium Arts to maintain the stability of the entire system...

Even if there were still many problems to solve afterward—materials, firearm design, even which gas was more suitable...

The feasibility of this technological route had already been proven.

In fact, another pneumatic weapon following the compressed-gas route, the No. 1094 Pneumatic Hand Cannon, had long since rolled off Blacksteel International's production lines.

But considering the options available to him, Oute had still decided to use the cryogenic liquefaction route for the prototype's design.

He wanted the Yeti Squad. He wanted FrostNova! He was honest! He was noble! He deserved praise!

Dylan piloted the Bad Boy in an arc across the sky. Due to the prototype's crude nature, the death it scattered was negligible for now, but it had effectively struck at the morale of the Sarkaz mercenaries.

This mercenary force had been undisciplined to begin with and was already starting to collapse. But soon, at the edge of the horizon, an elite ground combat squad that the Bad Boy had deployed long ago cut off their escape route.

"Protect the refugees!"

Nearl raised her warhammer high, standing between the fleeing Sarkaz and the Chernobog refugees.

Her teammates raised their shields one after another, holding back the disintegrating Sarkaz line. From afar, they looked like a city wall emblazoned with Rhodes Island's emblem. At the same time, large numbers of operators used this living wall as cover and charged the Sarkaz.

In terms of absolute numbers, Rhodes Island's operators were undoubtedly at a disadvantage.

But in terms of organization, these mercenaries were nowhere near the same league as the operators under Oute's command.

After several brief assaults, Oute identified their commanders, then ordered Rhodes Island's heavy defenders led by Nearl to forcibly separate them from their own soldiers.

The soldiers no longer knew their commanders, and the commanders no longer knew their soldiers.

Though the Sarkaz had the numerical advantage, they increasingly felt that they were the ones being surrounded.

No matter whom they attacked, two others would strike at their flanks...

On a distant rise.

W, draped in a camouflage net, lowered her binoculars and shouted, "Not bad at all!"

Ines snatched the binoculars away. "Let me see."

"That Kuranta... is she new? I never saw her at Babel before."

Hedley said, "When Rhodes Island broke through W's defensive line before, she was part of the rescue team."

He frowned. "I feel like I've seen her face somewhere."

For Hedley to recognize her face even out in the wilderness, the Radiant Knight was indeed rather famous.

"This is bad..." Ines said. "Rhodes Island's offensive is a little too effective..."

"At this rate, if there are too few Sarkaz left, there'll be no way to... Huh? They're getting back up!?"

"What the hell is Rhodes Island doing!?"

W curled her lip. "They're a medical company now. The kind that doesn't kill or injure unless necessary."

Hedley was also dumbfounded. "They're going onto the battlefield and making enemies of the Sarkaz with such a childish mindset!?"

W snatched back the binoculars and muttered, "Sorry, Hedley. Even if Kal'tsit has that childish mindset now, that bastard still promised her victory—and gave it to her!"

Aboard the Bad Boy, Oute was directing the battle.

Even from this distance, he could still freely equip accessories onto the operators...

The battle's intensity was exactly as Oute had anticipated—very low.

On the ground, within a small encirclement, several operators made mistakes, allowing a towering Sarkaz centurion to break through the cordon.

It was the only ripple in the entire battle.

But the moment he was struck, Oute had already equipped Reynauld's Head onto him. One of the heavy defenders knocked to the ground by the centurion quickly climbed back up.

He once again blocked the centurion's path.

There was no need to deploy Nearl. Otherwise, a gap might appear in the defensive line, and there was a small chance refugees could be injured or killed. On the other hand, with Nearl serving as reserve and mobile support...

With a thought from Oute, two more operators were pulled from the defensive line and attacked the centurion from both flanks.

A local advantage in combat strength.

He loved this move.

"Medical operators, roughly two hundred and fifty meters west, three operators have suffered blunt-force injuries. Two require stretchers. The route has been cleared. Proceed."

He multitasked, continuing his research: It can be concluded that the factor affecting the maximum range for equipping accessories isn't my own sensory ability.

Could it be that, even through a PRTS terminal, as long as a conceptual connection is established, I can equip accessories onto someone and form a mental link?

Or... as long as I can form a mental link, I can equip accessories onto them?

Further experiments are required.

After several backstabs, the final centurion crashed to the ground. The mercenaries completely lost their ability to organize themselves and collapsed across the entire line.

"Surprisingly," a Sarkaz mercenary suddenly charged out to cover the retreat of those demon bastards who had thrown away their armor and weapons!

One Sarkaz girl even intended to lead her troops in a charge to rescue all the fallen comrades with them!

How surprising. Kal'tsit, do you have a pig for a brain?

Oute looked outside the aircraft and put away the terminal.

Oute's voice came through the operators' earpieces. "The infected refugees have been secured. Most of the enemy has scattered. Do not pursue. I repeat, do not pursue. The objective of this operation is to rescue the refugees."

At the same time, he sent through the mental link, "Nearl, divert the refugees."

Just as planned.

A mission that had completely failed under Garson's orders.

Chapter 25: Lynx Paw Pads

Not long afterward, at Rhodes Island.

"...Doctor Oute." Kal'tsit watched the combat recording with her arms folded.

Her words were full of resistance. "You could have made great strides in other fields, rather than planting another seed of death upon this land already filled with suffering."

Although that cryogenic-liquefaction firearm prototype had only served to damage morale and harass the enemy during this "rescue operation," Kal'tsit was unlike the other shortsighted creatures on this land.

Most Terrans would not see any value in such a deformed firearm, still tethered to liquefied-gas tanks. They would be even more dismissive of an armed aircraft that could only serve as a scout even in small-scale conflicts.

But Kal'tsit truly recognized this thing!

And she understood Oute even more clearly!

"Furthermore, this only makes me increasingly doubt the credibility of your claim that you have amnesia."

"This afternoon's examination showed that your artificial valve is functioning well, while your brain has no organic damage whatsoever."

"Physically speaking, the possibility of you suffering from amnesia is minuscule."

"Dr. Kal'tsit... Doc Otter..." Amiya looked anxiously at the two people who had inexplicably begun confronting each other, trying to stop the dispute that was about to begin.

Oute merely spoke silently to Specter, asking her to release his sleeve for the moment.

After repeatedly confirming that Reynauld's Head was equipped on him, Oute walked up to Kal'tsit.

He removed both gloves.

"...You have no chance of winning a duel against me." Overcome by an intense urge to oppose him, Kal'tsit lost her composure and actually blurted out those words.

For a moment, Oute did not know whether to laugh or cry.

But he continued nonetheless. "Ahem, Kal'tsit, perhaps you're used to analyzing things with reason."

"Doc Otter!" Amiya looked worriedly at Oute's chest.

Although Kal'tsit had fully grasped Oute's condition during the medical examination not long ago, the lynx still could not help feeling concerned.

"But you have to admit one thing... ahem... if I hadn't lost my memory, if I deliberately wanted to weave a flawless lie... then with reason, with logic itself, you would never be able to find a flaw."

"You..." Kal'tsit's pupils trembled.

Oute equipped the accessory onto Kal'tsit. His left hand gently rested against her cheek, while his right took Kal'tsit's soft hand and placed her comparatively small palm over his heart.

The mental link had been established.

Strength seemed to flow from Oute's palm into her own body. For Kal'tsit, it was an entirely new experience.

In the past, he had never used this technique. But it was not unimaginable... Originium itself had...

"Don't think with logic... ahem..." Oute played up his misery. "Feel it with your heart..."

Loneliness. Intense loneliness.

Kal'tsit was not surprised by this. Oute was different from every species on this land. Those similarities could never soothe his heart; they only reminded him again and again of his own circumstances.

Humans with animal ears, a history that was similar yet different... this land was nothing more than a warped mirror, repeatedly cutting open his heart and admiring his pitiable loneliness.

This could not serve as proof that he had amnesia.